


Ignorence is Bliss

by emissaryarchitect



Category: Ava's Demon
Genre: Multi, word vomit y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:12:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emissaryarchitect/pseuds/emissaryarchitect
Summary: Just a quick ficlet I poured out as warmup about this most recent update, Nevy centric.





	Ignorence is Bliss

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just a waterfall of words, I'll likely come back later to polish it up better, but for now, enjoy

It felt so hard to breathe. 

Wrathia's presence is much like her element - fiery, burning, Nevy's skin catches on its subtle burns and cinder-like pops, her voice just as crackling as the campfires they play around. 

Her affection burns, and Nevy loves it, a far cry from the wet and heavy words of her reserved brothers and sisters, salt in their eyes and veins, just as cold and unrelenting as the seas they call come. At least here in the tropics she can comfort herself with Wrathia's company, that sharp toothed, bronze smile, her confidence and laughter infectious as a forest fire. 

She's not sure why she hangs out with Nevy - so boring in comparison, a priestess to-be, one who spends her time not learning how to conquer, but how to utter holy words and sway the masses with holy religious texts.

She isn't sure of the why, but she knows its happening, and she refuses to let go as her heart begins to swell and pound each time she sees Wrathia. By the Princess's reaction at seeing Nevy, she has suspicions the vengess feels the same, and it gives her a hope so much sweeter than the psalms of the texts she memorizes each day.

It's the night of the festival when they confess - Nevy knows she looks beautiful, she had her servants tear apart coral reefs to make her dress, to wear Wrathia's burning colors. Her claws trace Nevy's lips in quiet reservation, a breathy smile of her own passing between them before they're chastely kissing one another under the gentle light of the moon, and Nevy thinks she can't be happier, not with how her heart beats like a vengess war-drum, her cheeks aglow and scales fluttering fluorescent colors.

Here, in her burning palms and quiet whispers, Nevy feels at home.

Then Wrathia was engaged, and then the world grew dark.

It wasn't as though the change was instant. Though they were both heartbroken by the knowledge that Wrathia now had a husband to go to, things were almost the same for a while, as though they were treading on the edge of disaster, skirting the crumbling edges of a cliff. Wrathia returned to her homeworld for the ceremony.

When she returned, she took over.

Nevy could still see the woman she loved somewhere in there, but at all the wrong angles. The carnal sadism she saw directed towards hunted prey was now settled on the naive priestess, teeth bared not in a smile but in a display of territorial delight. 

"Oh Nevy," her words traveled between them like a sourly plucked note, "you're so _cute_ to think we would've lasted forever."

She couldn't remember crying so hard before, sitting on a small island in the middle of a still pond, holding her face in her arms and sobbing, weeping so hard her eyes were as salty and damp as her siblings, but so hot, the tears burning down her cheeks. 

Her world was overtaken by Wrathia, both in mind and body, and no one had told her it was dangerous to make a home in the heart's of other people. 

-

Years passed. She tried to forget Wrathia, but she kept wearing Nevy's colors, and it was enough to make her poor broken heart wonder sometimes.

A guardsman at the door, beautiful and dark, with bright eyes, "Nevy, I must speak to you."

"We're in the middle of a service, Pedri," she murmured, casting her eyes aside and trying to ignore how close he was leaning, how she could feel his hot breath on her cheek as he leaned in to whisper again.

"I need your help - I can help you, too," his words sounded like a promise, and that gave her pause, green eyes flicking to his with an emerald sheen. 

"...help with what?"

"I know the empress still loves you. She goes nowhere without wearing your colors, bearing them with pride as though she married to you, not that beast at her right," he was growing closer, murmuring such sweet words to her.

She flushed, the leaves of her horns fluttering as her cheeks cast a sweet color, "You don't know that... she likes to tease, its... she's just playing." Much like a cat, she considered bitterly. "I don't even want her anymore."

"...really," he murmured, "will you still help me?"

She finally turned to face him, their violets playing off each-other nicely, "With _what_ , Nanezgani?" Her tone took an irritated note that somehow sparked a charming, boyish smile to bloom over his features.

"I'm going to kill the Empress' husband."

Considering her initial reaction, she almost couldn't believe she said yes - but his kisses, she decided, were just as tender as Wrathia's. Maybe she could stand to kill the brute and regain Wrathia's love, considering how sweet Pedri's was, her soul ached for this attention.

-

Preparation had been so hard. 

It wasn't that she didn't know how to fight, oh no, she knew that very well - but she had to try and hide her identity for the assassination, and so it was with teary eyes and a sharp knife that she started to strip the leaves off her horns. The beautiful, glowing stalks fell into her sink as her horns were left as sharp, cruel nubs, almost vengess-like, which was the goal - but regardless, she still cried over the pain pulsing through her head, _I'm doing this for love, for love, for love._

Pedri had smiled when he saw her, and kissed her horns, and said she was brave.

She was stupid enough to believe him, and doubly so to feel a thrill of confidence go down her spine to feel him at her left as they hid in the alcove - waiting for the perfect importunity to attack. Wrathia had been drinking, wearing one of those tempting little bikinis she wore so often. 

For the first time in a long time, the only lust Nevy felt was bloodlust, and they lept to attack.

-

_What had she done wrong?_

"I really must thank you, Nevy!"

_She had tried so hard_.

Wrathia laughed sharply, "It was so kind of you, you know, especially after everything!"

_He told her she was brave._

She stroked Pedri's head on her lap, suckered with wine and loving the feel of Wrathia's skin against his own, a sloppy flush to his features as he kissed her bare thigh, cradling her adoringly. 

_He had kissed her._

"I never thought you'd dream to assist my dear husband in destroying that miserable little lout that called himself an emperor at my right," she laughed, and oh yes it burned, through Nevy's mind and heart and soul, lighting her core aflame to ignite into ash. 

The wedding had taken place on the covetess homeworld, and Wrathia even asked Nevy to be the priestess to officiate the marriage, as a thank-you for assisting her newly beloved husband. Nevy's viens turned to ice and her heart burned as the fires of the wedding ceremony did, vicious and bitter, and teeming with despair.

It was so hard to breathe.

Maybe that was why, the moment she could inhale, the first thing she did was scream. 

She couldn't stop.

Gil was right there, aghast and horrified - the little girl, or, Wrathia, whoever it was- she was right there, too - she didn't _want_ to be screaming, but for hundreds of years she couldn't, and here, in the space between spaces as a cursed figment of her former self, nothing was stopping her.

Nothing was stopping her, and nothing could, anymore - not even a broken heart.

-

"...well, this is it! We'll be living here until I finish all the training they assign me." Sweet little Gil's fingertips passed over Via's signature, looking up at the treehouse with a smile.

Nevy peered over it, empty-headed and sighing, eyes scanning the wooden grain, branches curling out - it felt familiar in a distant way she couldn't focus on, something about a knight with red leaves guarding his daisy princess, but the memories didn't touch enough to breach the surface of her amnesia.

"So the plan is... I'll become a doctor in eight years' time and I'll fix us. But... if I can't..." he paused, "I'll seek answers from TiTAN! He knows everything!"

He smiled peering up to his thoughts and uncurling his fingers as he spoke, "Well, either way we'll find out why I can only see you, if there's a way we can communicate, and... and get you safe back home!"

"Home?"

_Burning kisses, burning touches, turned to fire through her city and the Vengess assimilating into the Covetess seas and islands-_

"I feel like..." _A sharp bronze smile,_ "...home was taken from me."

_His face buried in Wrathia's lap, her laugh shrilly cutting through her ears-_

"My life was taken from me."

Her head lurched, phantom pains from stripping her leaves throbbing painfully "But what life? Why can't I remember?" She exhaled, her voice a pathetic whisper "I wish my head would stop swirling."

Sweet Gil, blue eyes on her as he leaned in, "Can you... remember your name?"

_Tears springing from her eyes, curled on a sandbar, weeping till she couldn't breathe-_

"I think... my name is Nevy."

Tragedy hid deeply in her mind, hiding away in the deep oceans of her thoughts.

"And I think my name is all I have."


End file.
